Mr. Powers sat, impassive. He'd listened to the entire story, leaning back in his chair, unmoving. I don't know much about Mr. Powers, but I expected something – a gasp, a red face, parted lips, maybe just arched eyebrows. Instead, he watched me, listened to every word, as if he were listening to one of his employees give a marketing report.
He leaned over the edge of his desk, large forearms resting there.
"You're only nineteen?"
His question caught me off guard. After all I'd shared, that was the question he asked?
"Yes."
"I was led to believe that you were older, twenty-one at least."
He said nothing for the longest time.
"Even in that, Mr. Puckett was dishonest." He pursed his lips, then sighed. "I'm glad you shared this with me, Rachel. I had no idea...I see my planned action
